


Tantrum

by sheroars



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Protect Ellie, Save Alec, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheroars/pseuds/sheroars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which he surprises and scares her all at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tantrum

"I am alone sir," She rushes past him before she implodes again. She can't do this. Not in front of him. Her knee strikes something. Hard. "CHRIST." She rounds the corner again, kicking the janitor's sign out of the way. Before another word can leave her mouth he seizes her wrist. She can't scarcely whip her hand back before he's yanking her forward and clamping down on her, reeling her in. The side of her hand connects with his ribs and she hits him twice before her eyes screw up and the room is spinning and her ears are ringing and oh fucking shit she just wants to scream. Throw a tantrum. Jump off the cliffs. He keeps his grip on her. 

Ellie Miller sobs into Alec Hardy's jacket. She's so short he's got one arm tight around her shoulders and the other around her head but she's too busy not breathing to think about how awkward it might be. She covers her ears and throws the fucking tantrum in his arms, stomping the tile occasionally and making a mess of her makeup and his suit. 

He bites down on his lip and shields her from...well...he's trying. Goddamn he's trying to do something. He's petrified of moving but he ends up leaning on the counter again as he feels her weakening. After what had to be fifteen minutes the ugly sobbing has ebbed and she's just shaking and breathing like a whipped racehorse. Her cheek in on his collarbone now and her fingers clinch his lapels. If she could just recede into him and walk out of the building without the eyes on her she would in a second. 

"Don't fucking think like that." It occurred to her that the arm her face was hiding in belonged to the man that could find a reason to curse an early Spring. 

"What?" She backed away, grabbing at the paper towels by the sink and scrubbed everything off her face with a vengeance. He grabbed both wrists this time, so hard she winced. 

"You're not bloody well alone." The tinge of offense dripping off his tone surprised her. She was genuinely speechless. He loosened his grip on her and gently ran his fingers over hers. "Don't think like that." He shed his mucked up jacket. "Let's get the hell out of here." They took a back door. She walked straight past her car and he groaned and rolled his eyes before following her. "Miller-" 

"Shut up already," He followed her down high street. He followed her past the docks and down the beach aways. He followed her up a trail up the famous Broadchurch cliffs as she kicked at rocks and muttered to herself. At the look out, which was admittedly picturesque, he stood at a safe distance while she hurled all her kicking rocks into the ocean and shouted obscenities at fishing boats. One shouted back. He smothered a laugh. "What?" She demanded of him. He sobered and loosened his tie idly. 

"Better?" 

"A bit." She all but collapsed into a sitting position, pulling her knees to her chest and scrubbing her palms over her face. "Fuck," He caught her hand again as he pulled a face and grumbled about sitting down. He felt for her pulse in her wrist. She snorted. "Did I give myself an arrhythmia yet?" 

"Don't sound so hopeful. You're still here." He concluded. "Keep it that way." Another order. 

"How?" 

"I dunno," 

"Are you gonna stick around?" 

"Yah," 

"You sure?" 

"Expect me to take a holiday?" 

"I'm beginning to wonder why you-" 

"I can't leave." They fell silent for awhile. She finally started to breathe like a human being. Something in her chest loosened. Blood was reaching her hands and feet again. The sea air was cleansing. 

"This'll kill us." He winced and shrugged. 

"Maybe." He brushed a thumb over her wrist and let her hand go. She tucked it around his elbow. It stayed there on the walk back down the cliffs. 

He opened her car door for her and she nearly jumped out of her skin when a scratchy excuse of a kiss whisked past her cheek and delivered an order to her ear in a secret type fashion. "Call me when you're locked in for the night." She nodded dumbly and watched him walk away. His ears were red and his shoulders were hunched. She was very much the same. 

"Jesus," She shook her head and shook off the eyes of the young family passing by on the sidewalk.

**Author's Note:**

> Freaking hug it out man. Don't look at me.


End file.
